


I'm a rockstar (I'm a rockstar in disguise)

by orphan_account



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-29
Updated: 2010-09-29
Packaged: 2017-10-12 07:35:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/122488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>prompt: trading places. Adam and Stephen do the bodyswitch. Hilarity ensues. Of course, only sex can fix everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm a rockstar (I'm a rockstar in disguise)

The moral of the story is, one should be _very careful_ of the wording when one is making wishes. Especially wishes that turn out to come true.

This is what Adam learned when he woke up the morning of his birthday.

Well, not immediately when he woke up. He didn't realize anything was wrong until he got out of bed and his center of gravity was fucked to hell and he was an inch taller, and when he raised his hand to push his curls out of his eyes, he realized that there were none falling into his face and that _there was barely any hair there at all_.

Also, he was able to see very well, even without glasses. But that was not exactly reassuring, in the larger scheme of things, since when he stepped in front of the mirror, he realized he was in Stephen Carriere's body.

 

~*~

 

"What. Did you do?"

Stephen did not sound happy.

Adam hadn't asked how Stephen had gotten a hold of his home phone number. They had enough friends in common that it probably wasn't hard to do. He must have told people he had a sore throat, though, because he sounded exactly like Adam, which was the strangest thing ever, especially with his accent that sounded nothing like Adam.

"I didn't do anything!" Adam squeaked, and then realized that there was no way he could talk normally with Stephen's vocal cords because whenever he tried, his voice broke. "I didn't do anything," he tried again. "Why does this have to be my fault?"

"Because it certainly wasn't me. I have no desire whatsoever to be inside you."

"Oh, really," Adam snapped. "Because the last time I checked, you were all too happy to do exactly that."

"That was _two years ago_. And it was just that once, and I was drunk, and it was nothing."

"There is no way - oh, fuck it." Adam interrupted himself. He didn't examine the stinging feeling behind his eyes too closely, because he had more important things to deal with. "The question is, how do we change back? I can't go downstairs! My mom is going to freak!"

"What do you think I've been doing?" Stephen hissed. "My mom thinks I've caught the swine flu or something! I had to lock myself in the bathroom when she popped in with a spare key to my room. She now not only has a spare key to my apartment, but also to my room! How do they do that? I did not want to know moms could do that!"

Adam snickered.

"God, shut up. I don't want to hear myself ever make that sound again."

"Like I want to hear you throwing fits in my voice," Adam sniped back. "At least you don't have a horde of siblings threatening to find you out any second."

Stephen was silent for a second. Then he said, "Call Johnny."

"What?"

"You're like, besties, right? He will know how we can change back?"

"Why would he know that?"

Stephen huffed. "There was a rumor once. I didn't believe it then, but now... well."

"What rumor? How do I not know about body-changing rumors going around? My grapevine is fired!"

"Just call him. He'll tell you how we can fix this."

"Why don't _you_ call him?"

"The only time I've ever talked to him was when I said 'Congratulations' at Nats that one time on the podium." Stephen hissed. "Shit, mom's coming back, I gotta go. Call me back _asap_ , bitch, or I swear I'll fuck you up."

Then Stephen's side of the phone was dead. Adam stared at his receiver for a while before putting it down and rubbing his eyes. He felt weird. And slightly guilty. Slightly, because, well, _it wasn't his fault_ , okay, he could not have known it would come true, and in this manner, too. Every red-blooded, now-twenty year old boy sometimes went to bed wishing to be inside someone, it wasn't that weird, and so what if he'd had a crush on Stephen since that time at Junior Nats when Stephen'd picked him after the banquet to take back to his room. It had been winner's privilege and all that, but it wasn't like Adam had _protested_ , on the opposite. Stephen might be a total dork, but he was cute and funny and he had a really lovely laugh and he got so excited about things!

Adam fell back onto his bed with a sigh and forced his hand to stay where it was on his hip, instead of letting it wander below the waistline of his pyjama pants. He _really_ liked Stephen's dick. Well, he didn't know if he still liked it, but he'd liked it a lot back when they'd made sweet, sweet love. It was worth checking out.

He was just about to push conscience into a metaphorical sealed container he could stuff to the back of his brain when his cell rang right next to his head. He jumped, caught out, and picked up with a breathless, "Yes?"

"And Adam," Stephen said in his ear, "If I find out you touched _any part of my body_ with any other intention than to keep it from permanent bruising, I will rip off your arm and bludgeon you to death with the soggy, bloody end of it. Before shoving it down your throat. Are we understood?"

"I hear you're recovered from the swine flu, then?" Adam asked sweetly. "Well enough to stand up already? Do you want me to come over and show you how fun sex with a temperature can be -?"

"Fuck off, Rippon," Stephen told him, and killed the connection.

"So violent," Adam sing-songed, and sighed a second time that day. Ah, foiled again. If this kept up, he was never going to have any fun on his birthday.

 

~*~

 

He googled body-swapping and body-exchange and any other form of keywords he could think of, as well as cures for either of those, and he came up with exactly nothing. Well, except for the people who seriously thought fucking was going to swap them back. Which was obviously ridiculous, but Adam was willing to go with it should they run out of options.

He had a feeling they were going to run out of options quick.

In the end, he gave in and went with Stephen's plan. Stephen was the smart one of the two of them, after all. He called Johnny.

"Hi! Johnny?"

There was a moment of pause, then Johnny's voice sounded, confused, and concerned. "Adam? Or is this someone else calling from Adam's phone?"

"It's Adam," Adam said, and could have smacked himself for not remembering his voice sounded different. "Though if you want to skip the introductions, the voice thing _is_ why I'm calling."

"Are you sick?"

"Hm. You could say that. Nothing grave, it's just. I had no idea who else to call, and there are rumors, you know?"

"I don't have and never have had any STDs," Johnny told him kindly. "You should talk to your doctor about this."

Adam rolled his eyes. "No. It's not about that. Well, only a little. But it's not an STD thing. It's this thing that happened last night. You know how it's my birthday today? And I-"

"Oh, right. I suck, sorry. Happy birthday?"

"It's not a happy birthday until I get my body back," Adam insisted. "Not that I'm complaining, Stephen has a pretty fucking fantastic bod, but since I'm strictily forbidding from touching it, I would prefer mine back. Especially since I can't actually leave my room until I have it back."

Johnny was silent for a second. Adam heard a strange sound he couldn't quite identify. Then he realized it was muffled laughter.

"Jesus, shut up," he groaned, defeated.

"Seriously, though?" Johnny cackled. "Seriously? You seriously - how did this - you swapped - no seriously?"

"I'm going to hang up..."

"No, no, don't." Johnny took a deep breath. "Don't. Ah, just. Why are you calling me with this, not that I don't appreciate your trust?"

"Stephen said he'd heard you might have a cure."

"Hm. Let me get back to you about this."

"Wait, what? So you don't - hey. Hey, Johnny, don't - fuck. Why do people keep hanging up on me today?"

 

~*~

 

Ten minutes later - it was going on ten am already, and his mom was going to get suspicious really, really soon, because she'd knocked on his door twice already, telling him birthday breakfast was ready - Johnny called him back.

"So?" Adam asked.

"So you guys will have to fuck. Till midnight. Otherwise it'll stay permanent."

"What?" Adam yelped. "This is all you got? Seriously? This? I got the same thing from the fucking internet! It's not a solution, it's - it's like, blackmail. How does this even happen? Who did you get this from?"

"Ah. Ryan Bradley," Johnny told him.

"Fucking Ryan. Of course it would be him. He's evil. This is all his fault."

"Hm-hm," Johnny agreed. "If you think so. Also, you might want to get going, and like. Get it over with soon. Unless you wanna play the role of Stephen Carriere for the rest of your life. Good luck."

And with that, he flounced off, leaving Adam with the beep tone of the phone. Sometimes, Adam hated his life.

 

~*~

 

"So we have to fuck, and before midnight if at all possible," Adam said. Quick and painless, rip off the band-aid, that was the strategy. Stephen would understand. Hopefully.

"I thought so," Stephen said calmly, with a little sigh. "Okay, so, I'm in Newark, and you're at home, right, Clarks Summit, with your parents? That's what, two hundred miles? Roughly?"

"Yeah, I think so - wait, what? Wait, I thought - why are you not yelling at me? Hurling insults, and like, death threats?" Adam stared at his ceiling, non-plussed. Honestly, he'd expected more resistance.

Stephen made a little sound, and Adam just knew he was doing that thing he always did where he jutted out his lower lip and frowned, and it made him look like one of those ducks from Ducktown or what was it called, but mainly adorable and like Adam had to kiss it away right this instant. Then he remembered that right now, Stephen was doing it in Adam's body, and that just got confusing, because Adam liked himself, and his looks and his body, but he wasn't into himself like _that_.

"I'll drive up the I-476, and you'll be driving it down, and google is telling me it'll take us over two hours, so we each drive an hour and a bit. The middle point is - Allentown? Allentown sounds good. Get your ass moving, I'll send you the details on your cell once I've booked a hotel room."

"What? Stephen. Stevie. What - are you serious, we can't just take off, and. Hotel room? What?"

"Rippon," Stephen said firmly. "I know you're slow, and not the brightest crayon in the box, but let me handle this, okay? You made enough of a mess. Just follow directions now. Nothing can go wrong that way. Nothing _more_ can go wrong."

Adam was gasping into his cell phone, what with the insults being unfairly _hurled at his head_ , and he'd been wondering how this call had been so scare of those yet. However, he couldn't even reply more than, "I don't think -" when Stephen said, "Oh, and I'm billing you for that hotel, by the way," and hung up.

A minute later, his phone beeped with an address and a room number, and an added, ' _Get my hot ass moving. We don't have all day. AND DON'T GET CAUGHT_.'

Adam stuck out his tongue at his cell phone, packed his backpack with all necessities, and opened the window to the backyard. He wasn't stupid. And also, he hadn't exactly been a good teenager. He knew all about sneaking out without getting caught. He was the king of not getting caught. He was a ninja, smooth as silk, silent as a cat -

"Hi there," Dagny waved at him from her spot behind a rosebush in his mom's garden, bright rainbow-colored ball in her hands, smiling brightly. "Are you Adam's boyfriend?"

Adam squeaked and took off towards his car.

 

~*~

 

Adam sent his mom a text message once on the road. It said, ' _I had to take off for a few hours, sorry about breakfast. I'll be back for dinner at the latest, I promise. Save me some cake!_ '

She would understand. Maybe. Maybe, and he hardly dared to hope, maybe, if he did this right, and if Stephen didn't kill him (or both of them if this didn't work), maybe if this _did_ work, Stephen would want to come back. It was just an hour's drive, after all, and there was birthday cake. And he sort of wanted Stephen to be his boyfriend. He could explain to Dagny, then, too.

Half past eleven, he arrived at the hotel Stephen had booked, which was better time than he'd thought he'd make. He didn't see Stephen's car in the parking lot on first glance, but when he got to the reception and said Stephen's name and the room number, they waved him up without question, so he was apparently already there.

Suddenly, Adam's nerves flared up. His stomach twisted, and his heart started beating faster, and he got sweaty hands, which he rubbed against his jeans self-consciously. He had no reason to be nervous, really. They were in a sticky situation together that they were going to resolve, together, and, well. He wasn't raping anyone, here. If Stephen didn't want to, well. Adam would accept that. Not happily, and it would be damn awkward explaining things to everyone, but, hell, it would be better than raping the person he'd been in love with forever, and god, how had he not thought this through _before_? There had to be another way to solve this without any sort of sexual contact happening -

"Took you long enough," Stephen said, leaning fake-casually in the doorway, waiting for him.

He looked... like Adam. Except not like Adam. The way he was holding himself was nothing like what Adam knew from pictures and videos of himself. Stephen's posture was as flawless as any skater's, but there was still a hunch to him that Adam didn't know of himself, like he had that inch of self-consciousness that Adam had never learned.

It was irritating and strange and utterly confusing. Also, Stephen was wearing glasses. They looked really dorky in Adam's face, sitting on his nose. They were thick, and horn-rimmed and not at all modern.

"What's that?" he asked, instead of answering, and pointed at them. His nervosity wasn't subduing. Stephen was looking at him funnily. Adam wasn't sure if he could have told that was him, if he hadn't known, but from that look in his eyes... or maybe he was imagining things.

Stephen shrugged. "Had to find a way to see, hadn't I?" His voice cracked, too. They weren't used to each other's vocal cords at all. It was a little hilarious. "You're as blind as a mole, how do you _deal_?" He smiled wickedly. "And does this mean you don't actually even see the person who's fucking you at the time?"

Adam shouldered past him into the hotel room and rolled his eyes. "Contact lenses, man," he reminded him. "And also, I'm not _that_ myopic." He smirked back, enjoying Stephen's look of irritation. "Certainly remember the face _you_ make when you come."

"Well, you won't be seeing it again today," Stephen told him. "But you probably have enough practice getting off to your own face to make it through the next few minutes."

Adam sat the backpack he'd brought onto the nightstand by the side of the bed and put his hands on his hips. "Wow, funny. You're a regular _comedian_."

"I try."

The anxiety was gone. He'd expected Stephen to be like he'd been years back, a little bit shy and incredibly lame yet cute at the same time. This was a bit of a shock. Adam took a step towards him, narrowing his eyes. "Why are you being so stingy? The moment we found out about this..." he waved back and forth between them, "You've been mean and bitching me out. Are you on your period or something?"

" _You_ tell me," Stephen replied dryly.

"You know what," Adam said pissily, "maybe we should just get this over with. After all, apparently there was no reason to worry about how this would affect you or anything, because you're not doing anything but standing there, snarking at me. So, you know. Let's just fuck and move on." He tried not to show that it did hurt that Stephen didn't seem anxious in the slightest, that it was just - well. An inconvenience that he had to go through and that he didn't even mind. In a way, Adam had to admit that he might have even liked it better if Stephen had seemed unsure and protested the whole thing.

Then he realized that he only thought that because it meant he'd get a chance to win him over for real and show Stephen how awesome he was and how lucky Stephen was to have sex with him, and he felt his face flame.

But now that Adam'd burst out with it, Stephen looked no longer casual and unruffled. He looked _considering_ , like he was trying to see right through Adam. When he stepped closer, he had his head tilted to the side, like he was guessing. Adam didn't like that at all. He took a step back, hitting the bed edge with his calves.

"You're scared," Stephen suddenly said, dumbfounded. "What - why would you be -?"

"I'm not!" Adam protested.

"You _are_." Stephen took another step towards him.

It couldn't yet be called crowding, but another step, and he would be rather close. Adam bit his lip and shook his head. "That's bullshit. Why would I be scared?"

"I don't know, do I?" Stephen was looking at him strangely now. "Maybe because jumping into bed with a stranger isn't as easy as you thought it would be?"

Adam puffed out a breath. "You're not a stranger."

"Then again," Stephen continued, unabashed, "that can't be it, because you had no problem at all with that two years ago." He frowned. It did not look too good on Adam's face, which Adam made a mental note to remember. No frowning when the camera was pointed at him.

"Why do you keep bringing that up?"

"Because as far as I know, it's the only time we ever actually spoke." Stephen snorted. "Spoke in the widest sense of the word."

The truth of it was, Stephen hadn't been the only one drunk off the champagne that night. Adam didn't like to think of that bit, because it was embarrassing, but it _was_ true that his memories were blurry from that night. He knew that he'd had damn good sex, and a great orgasm; and he did remember Stephen throwing him out shortly after.

"That was because you couldn't be bothered to spend even a second longer with me than absolutely necessary," he crowed, certain that he was in the right. "You kicked me out out your room!"

Stephen gave him a look that clearly stated he was a moron. "You told me I was sort of funny-looking, but my dick was great enough to make up for it. In the middle of sex. I thought my reason for kicking you out was fairly obvious."

"I never said that!"

"Well, I'm sorry but I'm not creepy enough to have taped it, so I can't provide you with proof -"

"- if that is a dig at that video that leaked, by complete accident incidentally, all I can say is that it was entirely consensual on both sides and also, seeing as you seem to have watched it, you have no moral high ground whatsoever."

"I didn't watch any such video, and also, we're getting off the point. What's the problem, Adam? You don't even have to look at me this time, unless you insist we do it in front of a mirror, so you won't even get distracted by my funny-looking face."

Adam had enough. He stepped up close and shut Stephen up with a kiss. He was not scared, damnit.

It felt really strange, though it was not as strange as it could have been because while he could imagine now what his own lips felt like to Stephen when Stephen were to kiss him in his original body, Stephen was the one kissing back, opening his mouth, moving his lips and later, his tongue, in patterns that were vaguely familiar from way back. So it wasn't totally like kissing himself.

They parted when they had to catch their breath, their eyes locked. Adam had no idea what was going on behind Stephen's forehead, what he was thinking. He knew his own mind was racing, trying to make sense out of what was happening.

Sense seemed not to play that big a role for Stephen at the moment. Instead of letting him find words to speak, he pushed Adam backwards, onto the bed, and rolled on top of him, his thigh between Adam's legs. Adam gasped and strained against him, arching his back, friction sending sparks of pleasure up his spine.

"Stephen," Adam mouthed when Stephen broke the kiss and moved down to his neck, biting the skin there gently.

"Yeah?"

"That tickles..." Adam giggled, especially when Stephen licked over the spot he'd just nibbled on.

"You want it to hurt instead?" Stephen teased, and sucked hard on his pulse point, making Adam's hips rock off the bed at the sudden intense wave of arousal.

He was going to have a hickey, which Adam wasn't in general averse to. He just also wanted Stephen to get on from mere making out to orgasms; apparently, Stephen got the message, because while still biting and sucking on Adam's neck, he was unbuttoning Adam's pants, pushing them past his hips.

And at this point, it came quite in handy that their bodies were swapped, because while he remembered sex with Stephen being quite good the last time around, Stephen apparently knew exactly what got his own body off - and he used it with ruthless efficiency until Adam was panting for mercy, hands clasped around Stephen's back, sweat drops rolling down his face and neck to hit the lines of his t-shirt which they hadn't managed to take off.

It was just a handjob, but Adam still came harder than he had in a while - and sort of _different_ than he usually did, too, the tingle in his stomach unfamiliar, as was the sensation of all the little hairs on his arms standing up. He groaned into Stephen's shoulder and shook as his come covered his stomach and Stephen's hand.

"Okay?" Stephen asked when he'd stopped moving, a minute or two later, falling sideways into the bed himself, taking his weight off Adam.

Adam nodded. "Did it work?"

Stephen glared. "Maybe it would work better if, I don't know, you did your half of the bargain?"

"Jesus, give a guy _a minute_ , will you," Adam complained. He swiped the come off his stomach with a corner of the cover on the bed, then he got up onto his elbow and peered at Stephen. "I'm not blowing you, by the by. There is no way I'm taking my own dick in my mouth."

Stephen smirked. "And here I thought that's how you practiced."

"Oh, shut up." Adam swapped at his side, and kissed him, just because he could, even though it was still very weird. It worked better when he closed his eyes, but he couldn't take off Stephen's jeans that way to get at his dick, so he just told himself it was like jerking off and went at it, instead watching the rise and fall of Stephen's chest as he stroked him to full hardness in his hand.

Maybe, he thought, squinting, sucking dick wouldn't be so gross after all. Weird, sure, but then again, what about this _wasn't_ weird. And it would be nice to know the greatness other people experienced while giving him a blowjob.

"Stop it," Stephen coughed. His face was red, and he was clearly trying to hold back laughter.

"What?" Adam asked, caught out. "I didn't do -"

"Don't even pretend you weren't thinking how awesome your dick looks," Stephen snorted. "You're such a preening peacock."

"Shut up," Adam mumbled and sped up the rhythm of his hand, jerking his wrist so that Stephen gave a little moan and bucked into the touch, trying to counter the movement, making Adam touch him just right.

Adam was pretty fucking sure he never made sounds like the ones that came out of his mouth with Stephen in posession of his body, because it was fairly embarrassing to hear, though somehow, thinking about Stephen making them was better, even managed to turn him on a little, for the second time. When he flicked his thumb over the head, Stephen gave a surprised little yelp and came. Adam grinned. He knew what got his own body off, too, thank you very much.

When he was done, Stephen seemed to be in a slightly better mood. At least, he didn't seem to mind when Adam cuddled closer, and even pushed his face into Adam's neck on his own, licking the spot there before he took a deep breath, glow firmly in place.

"It didn't work, did it," he mumbled.

Adam shook his head slightly. At least not that he'd noticed. As far as he could see, they were still switched. His stomach dropped at the thought. Stephen sighed in disappointment, his shoulders moving with a shrug, almost like he was trying to convince himself that it was okay, that they'd figure out something else. Adam closed his eyes and thought the same. They would. They had to, after all.

 

They woke up about an hour later, at the same time, and as always, the first thing Adam did after sitting up was to run his fingers through his hair.

"Shit!" he yelled, grinning. "It worked. I have my hair back!"

Stephen groaned into his pillow, and waved him away. "Great, now get out. Let's hope we never cross paths again."

The joy vanished about as fast as it had popped up. This wasn't how things had been supposed to go. Why did Stephen have to be such a grouchy Grinch anyway. Hadn't he been giggly and fun and stuff, before? Adam felt himself pull in his shoulders as he stared down at the unmoving figure under the covers. That fucking hurt, and he was pretty sure he didn't deserve it.

"Why are you so mean to me?" he blurted without thinking. "It's not like I said you were funny-looking this time! I think I would remember that."

Stephen lifted his face from the pillows and stared at him open-mouthed.

Adam's face heated up, but he pushed on, now that the damage was done anyway. "I never knew you could be so... so vindictive!"

"You never knew a lot of things about me," Stephen said coolly, half-sitting up. "Since you never bothered to actually find out anything."

"Hey! _You_ picked _me_ to have sex with, not the other way around. So who's superficial now?"

Stephen grasped his wrist, which surprised Adam enough that he made a forceless attempt to break out before he realized that he had no real reason to. He looked back at Stephen and found that Stephen was watching him again with an expression he couldn't quite translate. This time, it was on Stephen's own face, though, which made it easier to accept.

"You're a moron," Stephen finally said.

Adam blinked. "What?"

"You know even less about me than I thought, if you think I picked you that time because of your looks. Maybe at the beginning, it was what caught my attention, but it's not like there weren't other boys about as good-looking as you were at Nats that year. Or even some that were better-looking."

"Hey!"

Stephen made a face and tugged at his wrist. "Trust you to take offence at that," he said, rolling his eyes.

A glimmer of hope stirred in Adam's chest. "So what?" he asked, trying to joke, "You picked me because I'm a self-obsessed moron?"

"We all have our weaknesses," Stephen said wryly. It didn't sound like a joke from him.

It wasn't what Adam had wanted to hear. "Thanks. Really," he snapped, and slid off the bed. He pulled up his pants, stuffing his dick back into his underwear and zipped them up.

"Adam..."

"What?" Adam whipped around and glared. "Good to know, really. Next time, I'll make sure not to sleep with someone who's such an utter _dick_ , or if I do, I'll make sure to find out early before I start to... to... I don't know. I just don't know." He grabbed his backpack - and he'd brought stuff to change, even, he was such an idiot, thinking they'd stay longer, that they might actually figure shit out and enjoy this, maybe go have lunch somewhere... he was so fucking stupid.

"Adam, come on, don't run away." Stephen was getting up, too, as Adam got to the door, unlocking it. "I didn't know, all right? I really thought you were just in it for the sex."

"Well, it wasn't." Adam rubbed his eyes. He had no idea it would actually feel like _this_ , getting his heart trampled on, but oh well. It had to happen sometime. Magical body-swapping aside, two years were long enough to carry a silly crush around, so it was good that it was finally over, one way or another.

He didn't realize Stephen was standing behind him until he wrapped his arms around Adam's middle, pulling him back into his body. He didn't have his pants on yet. Adam tried not to let it turn him into a puddle of mush and soppy poetry, but it only worked partially.

Stephens took a deep breath. Adam felt his chest move, felt his arms tighten. Then he said, "I didn't mean to - I just thought it would be best, if. If it was quick. I just thought you didn't even want to be here, and tried to make it easier on you to leave, okay?" He sighed. "Honestly, I picked you back then because I _like_ you. Well, as much as I can like someone without having exchanged words."

Adam swallowed. He turned around and looked into Stephen's face, which was covered in a sheepish smile, one of those Adam actually knew of him. Maybe - probably - _hopefully_ a genuine smile, this time.

"I'm sorry about that thing I supposedly said, _if_ I said that," he heard himself reply. When Stephen rolled his eyes, he shrugged, smiling back. "You're not funny-looking. I like you too."

Stephen snorted. "Thanks. I can die happy now, I guess." He tilted his head to the side then, and added, "You still going to run away to die in a ditch from a broken heart?" The smirk was back, but far less hurtful this time.

That didn't mean Adam was going to just take it. He hit Stephen's arm. "Shut up. I would have done nothing like that."

"What would you have done, then, instead?"

It was a leading question if he'd ever heard one. And Adam, brilliant as he was, had never yet missed one in his life. Thankfully, he didn't have to reach up far to pull Stephen down to kiss, and this time, it was even better, because it was actually Stephen's lips he was kissing, and Stephen's skin brushing his own when he let his fingers wander under the elastic of his boxer shorts' waistband.

 

~*~


End file.
